A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5355

Yuliana tilted her chin, a confident smile unfurling across her lips. “Mr. Chance, perhaps you are unaware. In Celestia, scholarship is no mere ornament. The very act of reading—of testing reason against scripture—polishes the spirit so finely that heaven's spiritual energy answers twice as readily. Every academy compound houses a training arena. We study, then we cultivate, and our strength should not be belittled.”

At that moment, the bronze bell in the academy boomed, its note deep enough to rattle the paving stones. From lecture halls on every side, students poured out in orderly lines and streamed toward the distant training arena.

Jared's eyes sparked with genuine interest—or something very close to it—as he turned to Yuliana. “Ms. Fiala, if that is so, would you allow me a glimpse of these students in action? I would be honored to see the marriage of book and blade.”

Yuliana hesitated just long enough for the breeze to tug at the purple tassel in her hair, then inclined her head with gracious composure. “Very well—follow me, Mr. Chance.”

They stepped onto the wide stone terrace that ringed the training arena. Inside, several dozen students were showcasing their divine power.

One youth was wreathed in gold divine markings that spun from his skin and hardened the surrounding air into razor-thin blades. Another chanted under his breath until the field buckled, a tunnel of raw spatial energy whipping up a savage wind.

Each movement linked to the next with liquid precision, and where pairs trained together, their timing had the inevitability of rehearsed music—clearly the fruit of long, disciplined hours.

Jared allowed his mouth to part in polite awe, yet behind the mild expression, numbers and patterns tumbled through his mind. These youngsters do rank high among their peers, but their forms are rigid, beautiful, and predictable. Confronted with an opponent of equal power who fights like smoke and shadow, they would have no answer.

While he watched, Jared engaged Yuliana in soft conversation, letting careless-sounding compliments disguise questions as sharp as needles. When she touched on Celestia's governance—or the celebrated Roaring Storm Bell recently stolen—he appeared half-dreaming, yet tucked every fact into a private ledger. She, however, had come prepared; each answer gleamed like a sealed bottle, impossible to pry open.

Suddenly, a young man in a cobalt academic robe noticed them and strode over, boots ringing on the marble. At his waist hung an emerald badge carved with the single character Gale, and his handsome features carried the effortless arrogance of hereditary privilege.

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